


Then, One Day

by Dunaven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Castiel is a twisted romantic, First Kiss, M/M, Oral Sex, but in the original sense, modern fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-30 10:38:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunaven/pseuds/Dunaven
Summary: Cas is just a regular guy who’d love to make a special connection. When Dean approaches him  in the park, it's a dream coming true.Then comes the nightmare.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HEED THE WARNINGS

You could call it a whirlwind romance On the day we met, I was reading in the park. He wore army green sweats, the color of his eyes. Told me he was looking for his dog like in one of those romcoms. 

I was always the shy one. He walked right over with a homemade poster.

“Sorry to bother you, but you haven’t seen this mutt running around here?”

I shook my head. Half-crazy with nerves. I was never sure how my voice would behave with such a handsome guy so close.

The truth was, I’d seen the dog with him in this park. Every day around five. The first time, I held up my book pretending to read while he and the dog (Stimpy) played fetch, the owner lavishing praise every time. That’s when I fell in love. If a guy can still shower his pet with love after the thousandth time returning a ball, he must have a heart of gold.

Guys and their dogs. I once thought having one would be a good way to meet men, but this was good too.  
And it was my shot. I wasn’t going to blow it for anything.

Have I mentioned how hot this guy was? Figuratively and literally. Plush pink mouth I’d noticed the first time and fantasized about ever since. He wiped fat drops from his brow. It was a hell of a scorcher. I’d showered and put on a nice button-down shirt. Still, there were already damp patches in the armpits and center of my back.

“How long has he been missing?” I asked.

“Only, like, a day or so. Not long, but you know... Don’t want her to get hungry out there.”

“Oh. A she?”

“Yeah.”

He was already looking across the field, considering other parkers to ask. I closed my book studied the picture again - an indiscernible mutt.   


“Can I help?”

“Yeah, sure if you want,“ he said. “That’d be awesome.” 

So we called after Stimpy and asked around the park. I didn’t love the going up to people part, but he was right that it was necessary, to be thorough. At the end of a fruitless hour, we were both sweat-soaked and sighing. Dean (that was his name) shrugged and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“Hey, look,” I said.

What I was about to do was not my style. I wasn’t a guy chaser. I’d always been a lame watcher, a silent wanter. But here we were. I’d made contact. Of course, I’d likely see him again another day, but for once in my boring life, I seized the fleeting moment.

“I live right there. You want a drink or something?”

“Nah, I’d better head back.”

“I feel awful,” I said. “Let me do something.”

Dean glanced across the field once more and back to me before he nodded. “Sure. What do you got?”

I had tap water, bottled water, fizzy water, apple juice, milk, coke, sprite, beer…

I’d been dreaming about asking him to my place for a drink since the first time I saw him. He was the kind of guy you see and you just want to know what he’s about.

The ice clinked in his glass of Coke.

“It’s hot AF, man,” I said fanning myself. “You want to just step until you finish.”

Then, like magic, this enchanting creature was at my kitchen table picking up my copy of the latest Marvel comic. 

“You got a kid, or what?”

“It’s mine, dude.” I saw no reason to apologize for my tastes in my own home.

“That’s cool.” He thumbed open the cover. “Haven’t read this one yet. Any good?”

“Be my guest.”

Dean thumbed something into his cell phone and then he read the entire thing. When he was finished the book and his drink, he wandered into my living. If he was into Marvel, I knew he’d appreciate my Avengers figurine collection - die-cast metal, hand-painted, in a glass case, of course. 

It’s not something I show off to most people. Not necessarily common fare for a 34-year-old. My dad is always asking, “When the hell are you going to grow up, Castiel?”

Sign me up for Neverland.

I wouldn’t have guessed Dean and I had anything in common, so that was a major bonus.

“Hey, look,” I said, casting out another long shot. “I just picked up the box set. You wouldn’t interested in —”

"No, I got to head back.”

“Yeah. Of course.” I looked at the case in my hand. I’d already watched it 12 times. “The first ten minutes are awesome.”

He grinned. “You’re funny.”

Beautiful, sweaty Dean from the park plopped on the couch and said, “Ten minutes. Then, I got to go.”


	2. Chapter 2

Once I'd set up the Blu-Ray, I offered cookies. 

“Nah, I’m good thanks, but could I get another drink? Don’t know why my mouth is so dry.”

“It is pretty damn hot out there,” I said and brought him a second coke.

Unsure how close was too close, I settled on the opposite side of the couch and tried to be inconspicuous watching him in my peripheral vision. 

When he nodded off, I thought of waking him, in case he needed to get back for something urgent. This pure beauty was spread out on my sofa and I was in no rush for that to change.

“Dean, tell me if this is totally out of line, but I’ve been watching you for days and … I think you’re incredibly cute.” 

Both gross understatements to which he didn’t seem to have a negative reaction, so I went on. 

“I don’t usually do this.”

Another understatement. I could count on three fingers how many guys I’ve just brought back to my place. I’d never been into any of them as much as him.

When he didn’t run, I took a wild chance and pulled his feet onto my lap. If he wasn‘t into it, he’d let me know. But there was no resistance, so I removed his shoes and began to massage his feet. Nice feet. Soft, smooth with longish toes. I kissed his instep and he didn’t bat an eye.

While the Hulk raged on-screen, I released his feet and carefully, slowly climbed up until our soda-tinged breath mingled on one another’s lips. 

“May I?”

Some guys are all tongue or else they’re staging a suckerfish impression. Dean’s kiss was just nice, with those soft lips I could nibble all night. 

Before long, I’d undressed him and stood admiring the most perfect body: lithe, long, and lightly dusted with freckles like flecks of toffee and fine golden hairs.

His knees wide, beckoning me to my knees where I greedily licked and sucked every inch like he was all the water in the desert.

Finally, I worked up the courage to ask if I could ... if he would take me in his mouth. 

I almost came before I was on his warm tongue. But I didn’t want it to end before it began, so I pulled out, I helped him pin his knees to his chest and gave him my tongue where he needed it most. Down where he was hot and tight and earthy-sweet.

With my pants were around my ass, I slid between his cheeks. Real slow, so I wouldn’t blow.

I was pretty sure he’d never been with a man before. So delectably tight. The moment I entered him, the galaxy shifted, the planets aligned and I experienced the most transcendent lovemaking of my life.  That sounds cliche and crazy about a perfect stranger, but we moved together like one entity. In the immutable words of Morrisey, we were hand in glove. Pen and mount.

The second time, Dean sat in my lap with his arms around my neck bouncing like I was his favorite ride at the fair. All I could do was grip his hips and try to make it last.

It had grown dark outside and although I didn’t have my eye on a clock, I’d just filled his hole for the third time when someone knocked on the door.  



	3. Chapter 3

I was already up, taking a piss. It was simple enough to step into a pair of slacks, kiss my new lover and leave him stretched out on the bed. 

At the door, a woman with deep, hollow eye sockets flashed a snapshot of Dean and his dog on her phone. 

“I’m sorry to bother you so late," she said. "But one of our neighbors said they saw you with this child.”


	4. Chapter 4

GAME OVER

Can’t say I appreciated her tone. Or the suggestion that Dean had a family. But I can’t say I was surprised. Such a sweet, gorgeous guy had to belong to someone.

I told her, “No, sorry,” and shut the door.

But her arrival meant I had to face facts, didn’t it? I could either let him go home and not say or word or confront the hard truth. Find out whether our brief time together meant as much to him as it did to me. Or was this just another one and done fling? God knows I’d had plenty of those in my day.

It’s not like Dean and I made any promises in the throes of our passion. The hardest fact of all, it was time for him to go home.

I shook his shoulders, called his name. I pinched him and shouted. Lifted an arm and watched it fall without resistance.

“Oh, come on.”

I held my fingers in front of his mouth. No breath. Laid my head on his chest. No pulse.

Fuck.

Had I given him too much? It’s so hard to gauge the right dosage with their little bodies. This is when the game gets lame.

Not my fault. Not like I'm a pharmacist.

CPR didn’t work. Banging his sternum didn’t work.

I stared at my phone and thought the numbers. 911. It’d be easy to do. Impossible, of course.

It was never meant it to end like this.   
And to prove that I still loved him, still wanted him no matter what, I filled his mouth once more, cum frothing on his tongue like cream filling.

There’s no greater shame than a beautiful boy in a garbage bag in a cardboard box in the backseat of a 2003 Jetta. Off we drove to the landfill where in a moment of sentimentality I laid Dean to rest with his canine friend. Stimpy. Then I covered the displaced dirt with a busted out fridge. Left the door hanging open.

Home again, I showered, ate some cereal and went to bed.

His face was on the news the following night. A cute school picture, big smile, artificial backdrop. American flag and autumn leaves. Brought a little mist to my eye.

And maybe I did fib to the nice men in their crisp uniforms when I said I’d seen neither dog nor Dean. Nowadays, if there’s one thing people don’t understand it’s fairytales.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, fairytales were not what Disney has made them.   
They were parents' way to scare certain behavior into their children. One of my favorite examples is that the Little Mermaid turns into foam at the end of the Danish version. I guess the lesson was you don't leave home for no man...


End file.
